The Pursuit of Happiness
by TheChickenCrazy
Summary: The little things are the most important, as Sherlock Holmes once said, but I think there is more than one way to apply that. For instance, the memories we make; it's important to keep them close to the heart. That's why I've recorded one of my favorites for you to read, with "helpful" input from Nathaniel, of course. One-Shot, has a nice ending.


**There is no graphic content in here—although, the implication is most definitely there, and not very hard to find.**

**I really don't think this is worth an M+ rating, however, if it's bothering anybody, I can adjust that. But a My Candy Love fanfiction that's rated for adults…a bit too much, no?**

**The Pursuit of Happiness**

_Being from a considerably grungy school in the slums, even if I wasn't slum myself, I felt it was only natural at the time for me to have wondered why just the word "sex" was such a taboo at Sweet Amoris High. The first time I had said it, while throwing off a joke as always, the people around me had stopped and stared and whoever I'd been talking to—I can't remember just now, it was probably Violette—slunk off with the face of an eleven year-old who had been being lectured on safe sex._

_Sex is natural—it's like eating and sleeping. I just don't see what the big deal is. Surely they teach Sex Ed here? It's a requirement, isn't it? Honestly, when I inquired to Iris about it, she made that same face that maybe-Violette had made and stated that someone was calling her name. And then started doing her homework. Right in front of me. Was it your imaginary friend on your imaginary telephone having an imaginary conversation with you, inside your head, and only yours?_

_So I then went to Melody. And I had been a little cranky at the time because it was, well, that time of the month, so you can't blame me. Not really._

_She seemed to be daydreaming, ironically, and by her later reaction I guessed she was mentally undressing Nathaniel, who was also in the room. I asked her why everybody seemed so uncomfortable with the idea of sex, and she sputtered and replied, "I was not!"_

_Well. Neither was I, so there! Ha! No, Melody, I asked you a question, I did not accuse nor insinuate that you were taking part in any undesirable acts of mental stripping. But I was thinking that you were doing that, because, well, you were._

_Wait…I'm stalling…I'm stalling…I scrolled the page up because Nathaniel's looking over my shoulder wondering why his name came up; on the very (not) rare occasion, I mumble when I write, record, etc. So yes, Nat, Nath, Natty, Nathan, Natalie, your name was in here and I am recording this moment because it makes a wonderful memory. Documenting these things will let us look back later on in life and laugh. Or, at the very least, it will encourage you to smile. Your sense of humor has improved, but you have a long way to go._

_Just imagine a smiley face after that last sentence. I don't want to put it there because Nathaniel's a Debby Downer or Negative Nancy, of the sort, and apparently detests when persons of any kind—smart or stupid, I being the latter—incorporate the "dreaded" smiley face into any writing. Including the type that goes on a note that is entirely the corner of your notebook page and generally takes to the destination of another person by "airplane mode"._

_In other words, the "Will you go out with me, check yes or no (cue 'Yes' and 'No' boxes)" note for him or her._

_Well, that's how I got mine._

_:)_

_Oh yes._

_Yes I did._

_Oh yes I SO just did that._

_Take that, you gorgeous blonde wonder._

_Back to the basis for this documentation, Melody was a complete and unconditional non-issue, so I moved on. The second time I said sex, as in, the word, Violette was back, but still bolted, and I was left standing in the middle of the hallway like the open-mouthed idiot I am._

_Did I mention Nathaniel called me an idiot out of nowhere once? I was about to say something and he was just like, "You're an idiot."_

_Yes you did._

_Yes you did._

_Yes, you totally did, I have the memory of…of…some animal that has a good memory. My ears are not deficit, Nathaniel._

_No, not a goldfish, and no, not a squirrel!_

_Hey, that was actually sort of funny._

_I also write when I mumble. Ha ha. Sorry._

_I don't have all night to do this, and I'm starting to feel sorry for whoever will read this. Long story short, I ended up running around for two hours trying to find Nathaniel (he was busy, stuck doing Student Body "Prez" things with the Student Council for Prom) to ask him just _what _it was that made everyone look like they were going to piss themselves when SEX came up. Yes, folks, SEX. Capital S-E-X._

_And you know what he did?_

_He felt obligated to explain what sex was to me._

_Blondes._

_I'm kidding, they're adorable. _

_By then, I had just given up. Decided to let it be and avoid the innuendos altogether, as I had (and still have) plenty of other material._

_Well I hope this was an…interesting read, to say the least. I think my rambling is just about finished._

_One last thing._

_:)_

_Celine Josephine Mariette _

"_Lina"_

My fingers halted abruptly. That was it. One more memory inked into one more page. At least, once it was printed.

I glanced at the clock on the desk. It read 11: 47 p.m. Saving the document, I closed Nathaniel's laptop gently and stretched luxuriously. Smiling, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the soft cushioning of the office chair. I had my own laptop, of course, but if I put more letters on his, he'd have something to remember me by during his final quarter at college. I was only a year behind him, and then I'd be there with him, every step of the way.

I felt the warm tickle of breath on my forehead and opened my eyes to Nathaniel's golden ones. Just seeing him made me beam.

"Hey," I said softly, reaching up to twirl a strand of his lion locks. He threaded his middle and forefinger around my own and returned the expression. "Done yet?"

I reluctantly detached myself from him for a moment so I could get up, pointing my toes as I did so to flex my stiff legs. I had quite nice legs, if I did say so myself, and they were accented especially well by the pale pink slip I was wearing. "Yes," I responded, wrapping my arms around his waist and tucking myself into him. He held me with a soft caress, his lips pressed against the top of my head.

Having him here in my house was the best comfort I could have while my parents were away. I was an utter coward when it came to being alone, the dark, or both, but Nathaniel was a light and condolence in one.

My fingers slipped under his shirt to brush the hard muscles of his lower abdominal. He smiled into my tousled mousy brown curls. "No," he mumbled, but I could practically hear the want in his voice.

I looked up at him then, really looked, and I knew what we had. Something special. Something more than just two people, together.

Our lips met, gentle, easy. I pulled him by his wrists out of the office and down the hall, heading for my bedroom.

I think that we're one person. That this is what love really is. Because if I could live in these little moments forever, it would be enough.

Forever. Maybe I should write about _that _memory.


End file.
